


Do You Remember?

by ohthedrarry



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hangover, POV Hermione Granger, Post-Hogwarts, Shy Draco Malfoy, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:20:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25142281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohthedrarry/pseuds/ohthedrarry
Summary: Five years had passed since Draco and Hermione shared a steamy night in the Hogwarts dungeons. Three years had passed since the war. Six hours had passed since Hermione-incredibly hungover-was greeted by Draco getting a tour on his first day at the Ministry. When he shows up at her flat in Muggle London with an anti-hangover potion as a peace offering, things get steamy.**EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT**
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 18
Kudos: 162





	Do You Remember?

The tea kettle on the kitchen stove whistled, and it took everything in Hermione to stand up from the couch. Her limbs felt heavy and awkward, as if she didn’t have proper control over them, and she’d never experienced a headache as pounding as this one. 

_ This is why you don’t drink _ , she thought to herself.  _ You know you can’t hold your liquor _ . 

She set about making herself a cup, adding two spoonfuls of sugar. Her kitchen was small, but so was the rest of the space. She'd rented a one-bedroom flat in Muggle London, just down the street from the Leaky Cauldron. It kept her close to the Ministry and her responsibilities, but far enough away that she could slip into obscurity as soon as her day was over. Soft yellow wallpaper contrasted wonderfully with the white tile that decorated the far wall. The cabinets were a soft shade of beige, and the appliances were all white, and a little bit dated. She didn't mind, though. She preferred gas stoves to electric anyway. 

Hermione tried not to think on the previous night. The Ministry had thrown a party for Harry's promotion in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and she had spent most of the evening making sure that every last sip of spiced rum had been consumed. She tried for a moment to remember why she'd had so much to drink, but the effort made her brain cry out in agony. She took a steadying breath and sipped on her tea, hoping that it would calm her anxieties. 

_ Who even threw a work party on a weeknight? _ she thought to herself.  _ Aurors who can handle alcohol, that's who. _

It was nearing seven but, instead of rushing to get ready, she took her time. The fact that she was going in at all should be respected. She was going to give her boss an earful whenever she finally arrived. Nearly forty minutes and two cups of tea later, she was brushing her hair in the bathroom mirror. She pulled it into a low-hanging bun that rested just at the nape of her neck and reached for a silver necklace sitting on the bathroom counter. She twirled it in her fingers, admiring the way that the phoenix pendant seemed to nuzzle into her touch.

Three years had gone by since she'd been given the necklace if her hungover brain wasn't deceiving her. It had arrived just at the end of her Sixth year, a few days before Dumbledore was attacked. She never discovered who gave it to her, but she'd worn it every day since. The pendant was charmed, and the bird had a nasty habit of trying to fly away when she got scared. When she was excited, its feathers would ruffle and she swore she once heard it make a sound. 

Today, the bird appeared relaxed and eager to perch on her left collarbone. She'd bought it a longer pendant about a year before, to give it room to fly. Every once in awhile she'd let it loose, and sometimes it would disappear for hours at a time. It would return empty-handed, though Hermione assumed this was due to its lack of size rather than lack of trying. 

Hermione clasped the pendant around her neck and gathered her things slowly from the living room. She usually made it into the office before eight every morning, but she stepped off the lift just after eight-thirty. Harry was standing by the front desk for the DMLE office, sorting through paperwork and arguing with--

"Malfoy?"

Memories from the previous evening came flooding back to her. Malfoy had been at the Ministry event, rubbing elbows with Ministry employees and sweet-talking his way into a job no doubt. She hadn't kept up on him after she and Harry got him off with little more than a slap on the wrist after the war. She assumed he'd gone off with his massive inheritance and had... well. She hadn't thought about it much if she was being honest.

"Granger." 

His greeting was warm, but something in his eyes was sparkling. As if he knew something that she didn't. He offered her a small smile before reaching out his hand as if the two of them had never met. As if his aunt hadn't carved the word Mudblood into her arm while he stood by and watched. Hermione thought for a moment that she was going to be sick.

"Draco just accepted a position with the Investigation Department," Harry spoke up, sensing the tension that had begun to fill the entire floor. "And I offered to show him around the office. He'll be taking one of the offices in the back, just a few doors down from yours I believe."

Hermione couldn't help the deranged laugh that slipped from her mouth. The phoenix on her chest began to flap his wings in agitation, and she clasped her hand over it quickly. A few heads had turned there way, and she fought the blush that was beginning to creep up her cheeks. Maybe she needed to take a personal day. 

"Draco Malfoy? Taking a Ministry job? In the Investigation Department?" Hermione knew that she sounded bitter, and a little unwelcoming, but she couldn't comprehend the absurdity of it all. "What? Being a Death Eater wasn't enough for you? You want to chase down the rest of your little friends and laugh as they suffer and you walk free?"

The look on Harry's face made her feel immediate guilt. Draco's expression remained professional, but the smile had dropped from his lips. His eyes were no longer sparkling. 

"I don't have to explain my choices to you, Granger," Draco said.

Harry cleared his throat and put his hand on Draco's shoulder. He offered Hermione a small smile that said everything was going to be okay. His eyes told her to shut up. 

"I..." Hermione rubbed at her temples, taking a deep breath. "I think I had too much to drink last night. I think I'm going to head home. Harry, will you-"

"I've got you covered, Hermione," Harry nodded. "Go home and get some rest."

She released her hold on the phoenix and it fluffed out its feathers, letting out a disgruntled sound. Draco's eyes followed the bird as he moved to her collarbone, picking at something on his metal wing. 

Hermione wasn't sure how she felt about Draco watching her so closely. When she dared to meet his gaze, he had the same look he'd had all those years before when they were Prefects. She tried to keep herself from thinking about that one night in the dungeons, the way that his hands had felt on her skin. She'd thought she'd feel dirty the day after, but she'd felt alive. 

She cleared her throat and offered them a small, one-handed wave goodbye before stepping right back onto the lift. It was a ten-minute walk home and she kept her pace as fast as she could. She needed to get out of that building and get away from the image of Draco standing there before her. His shoulders were broader than they had been the last time she saw him. The bags that usually clung to the skin beneath his eyes had been replaced by smooth, porcelain skin. His eyes weren't the dull grey that she remembered, but almost an icy shade of blue. And they sparkled. 

It took her nearly a minute to unlock the door to her flat, and it was barely closed behind her before she was collapsing onto the couch. Her hair felt tight in the bun and she let her hair down, shaking it out over the armrest.

Hermione didn't realize that she'd fallen asleep until there was a knock on her door. The sun was beginning to set outside and she felt rested but disoriented. Wand raised, she slowly approached the door. 

"Who is it?" She hoped her voice was menacing. Harry and Ginny knew to simply charm their way through the door. Ron never visited. Not since the break-up. 

"It's, uh," the smooth-sounding voice on the other side of the door faltered. The speaker cleared their throat. "It's Malfoy."

Hermione nearly threw herself at the peephole on the door. Sure enough, standing a few meters away from the door was Draco Malfoy. He was holding something in his hands and looking... awkward. Hermione had never known Malfoy to be awkward in any situation. 

She unlocked the door and opened it just enough to stick her nose and her wand through the crack. 

"What are you doing here?" 

Draco scratched at the back of his neck with his free hand, looking flustered. Her first thought was that he looked cute like that. Her second thought was that she shouldn't have had the first thought. They had a one-time, stress-fueled thing nearly five years ago. And she hadn't given much thought to it since. Not since the night at the Manor. So why was she thinking about it now?

"Uh, Potter sent me to make sure that you were okay," he was avoiding her eyes. And using a lot of filler words. He was out of his element. This realization made Hermione feel slightly better about the situation. She had the upper hand. "We all saw how sloshed you got last night. I didn't realize it wasn't normal Hermione Granger behavior."

She tried to remember if he'd ever spoken her first name out loud in front of her before. Her brain was torn between still being slightly hungover, being definitely starved from lack of food, and overall exhausted. She liked the way that it sounded coming from his lips. As if it was a charm. 

The phoenix took to the air, struggling against the chain in its attempt to get at Draco. The corner of his mouth lifted in a smile, and she struggled to keep the bird in check. 

"What's in the box?" 

"If you let me in, I'll show you," Draco replied simply, his eyes focused on the bird. He cocked his head to the side as he studied it, thoughts flashing through his eyes too quickly for Hermione to try and catalog them all. She thought she saw recognition in his expression, but pushed that thought from her mind. "Or, if you'd rather I didn't come in, I can just leave it here. Whichever you're more comfortable with."

Draco fucking Malfoy was standing in front of her door in Muggle London of all places, holding a small package and looking every inch a shy schoolboy. Was she still dreaming?

Hermione stepped aside and opened up the door, giving him room to step inside. 

"Shoes come off at the door," she said as she walked into the kitchen. She waved her wand and pots and pans sprung to live, the fridge doors opening up for her to look inside. "I might as well make dinner. Have you eaten already? I haven't eaten since... last night."

The thought hit her harder than seeing Malfoy had that morning. She turned away from the fridge to see him closing the door and slipping off his shoes. One of his socks was white, the other was black. She raised an eyebrow at him and he looked down at his feet, a blush brilliantly displayed on his cheeks when he looked back up at her. 

"I was in a rush this morning," he offered as an explanation. "Didn't want to be late for my first day. Although, they almost set me up for it. Inviting me to that party like I wasn't going to have my fair share of champagne."

"Spiced rum," Hermione nodded in agreement. "Don't know why I thought I could drink an entire bar's worth."

Malfoy chuckled and stepped into the living room, looking around. She'd kept her furnishings simple, choosing to decorate rather than fill the space with an abundance of furniture. Her couch sat against the far wall, two armchairs facing it across a simple coffee table. Their light pink floral patterns complimented the soft cream walls, and she'd hung a decent amount of plants around the place. Potted plants took up much of the floor space, as did a few accent tables and a bookshelf.

"Yeah, you seemed pretty far gone by the time I got there," he said. Malfoy looked around, clearly wanting to set down the box. 

"You can hand that to me," she said, reaching out her hand. Malfoy slowly took the ten steps to reach her, as if he was scared it was some sort of trick. She noticed that he was careful to not touch her as he passed her the box. 

Inside Hermione found a small vial with a clear liquid inside. She lifted it out of the box and read the label. It was an anti-hangover potion. She didn't realize she'd raised an eyebrow at him until he offered her a small chuckle. 

"As a raging bachelor, I keep a fair few of these in my bathroom," Malfoy said simply. "I figured it could be helpful. If not today, someday in the future."

His eyes fell on her necklace again. 

"You never answered my question," Hermione heard herself saying. She was happy her mouth kept moving even though her mind was racing. "Have you eaten?"

"Ah, no I haven't," Draco replied. "But, don't worry about it. I do have my own home with a kitchen. No need to make a fuss for someone like me."

"It's no bother," Hermione waved him off. "Take a seat at the table. I'll have it ready in a little while."

They chatted about simple things, like the weather and his mother, and how he'd ended up working at the Ministry. It turned out that the Ministry had been interested in him since his trial. They thought he could be valuable to the Investigation Department, as he was an ex-Death Eater and knew many of the remaining members' favorite hang-outs and habits. Malfoy admitted that he didn't know how much help he could truly be. He mostly wanted to help them catch other dark wizards, ones who might try to rally the younger generation to the cause. He was convinced that any of Voldemort's original allies were dead, jailed, or in permanent hiding. Malfoy did ask her about Ron, and her facial expression told him everything that he needed to know. 

He didn't bring up that night until they were nearly finished eating. 

"Do you remember that night? In the dungeons?" Malfoy asked, his face a lovely shade of pink from the wine that Hermione had poured. Hermione's chewing slowed, and she didn't meet his eyes. She nodded. 

"I do," she searched the surface of the table like she was searching a teacup in Divination class. And just like those blasted teacups, the table offered her no help. "I'm surprised you remember."

"How could I forget my night with Hermione Granger?" The way that he said her name made her feel things. The bird flapped its wings and pecked at her chin. "That's a lovely pendant you have, by the way. Do you know who gave it to you?"

Hermione shook her head. 

"It appeared on my bedside table one morning," she said. "It was a few days before..."

She'd looked up and his eyes had said everything that his mouth didn't. Her mouth dropped open in surprise, and she quickly shut it. Malfoy set down his fork and sighed. 

"I'm well gifted with charms," he started. "It was something I picked up as a kid, and I only got better with it over time. Charms class bored me because it was all stuff I already knew how to do. Fortunately, Flitwick took pity on me. He'd let me stay after hours and practice more... advanced... charms. It can sense your mood, and when you're in danger. Sometimes when you let it loose, it'll find me. It's a silly glitch that I can try and fix if you wanted me to. I know having your necklace fly away can be a bit of a nightmare."

"Why give it to me?"

Draco looked away from her briefly before turning back. He seemed unsure and even more like a young schoolboy than he had before. She liked him this way, Hermione decided. Unsure of himself, and afraid that he was going to say the wrong thing. That was the only thing keeping her from kicking him out of her flat. He was in her home, unsure of what her reactions would be, and more than likely afraid of getting cursed. 

"I didn't forget that night in the dungeons," he pursed his lips before biting on the bottom one. "Don't tell anyone, but I've thought about it every day since."

Hermione's heart slammed against her ribcage. The anti-hangover potion had cleared her mind, but the wine had made it fuzzy again. She wasn't drunk-she'd only had two glasses-but she was beginning to lose some of her composure. Quickly, she stood up and grabbed at the plates, walking them over to the sink. 

"I can wash those," Malfoy stood and made his way over to her, taking the dishes from her hands. She let him and leaned against the counter, watching as his nimble fingers disappeared into the soap bubbles. They didn't speak until the dishes were tucked away in the drying rack, and the remaining water was slurping down the drain. 

Hermione was the one who broke the silence. 

"What do you think about when you think about that night?"

Her breaths were coming in quickly. She knew what she thought about that night. He'd been all hands and soft lips and his-

Draco took a step toward her, hesitantly, watching her reaction. When she didn't move to make space between them, he took another half-step until he was close enough to tuck her hair behind her left ear. 

"I think about your hair," his voice was low and rough sounding, as if the words were struggling to make it past his lips. "I think about how three years of dreaming about it had left me incredibly unprepared for what it was actually like. It's one thing to dream about you, Hermione. But, when you're there, right in front of someone, the dream version seems... insufficient. Your skin is soft and smooth, and the way that your eyelashes cast shadows on your cheeks when the light hits them a certain way. It's enough to drive any wizard crazy."

His thumb had moved down to cup her chin, and Hermione felt her arms uncrossing themselves from her chest. She was fighting every instinct to reach out and grab him, to pull him closer. 

"You're beautiful, Hermione," Malfoy practically whispered those words. "So beautiful Potter had to sneak me some Liquid Luck just to get the nerve to come over here."

Hermione decided she was going to ask him about that last bit later. Right then, she needed his hands on her body and her lips on his. She wasn't sure which one of them moved first, but before she knew it their lips were colliding and her tongue was forcing its way into his mouth. He tasted like wine and bad decisions, and the feeling sent a shockwave through her body. One hand kept her face steady while the other grabbed at her hip, pulling her as close to his body as possible. She let her hands grab wherever they wanted-either side of Malfoy's face, his hair, his shoulders. 

He lifted her and placed her on the edge of the counter, knocking over anything in his path. The hand that had been on her hip slid up her shirt and she quickly tore it off. He watched as she did so, his eyes as hungry as they had been that night in the dungeons. They stared at each other for a brief moment, chests rising and falling in unison. She began to unbutton Malfoy's shirt as quickly as she could, her excited fingers skipping over a few of the silly buttons. Once his shirt was off they grabbed for each other again, moaning into each other's mouths and gripping each other's bodies hard enough to leave bruises. 

When his hands began to travel down her stomach toward her legs, Hermione was thankful that she'd chosen a skirt that day. Malfoy's fingers danced over the fabric before slipping underneath and then up, and up until he was slowly rubbing her through her panties. She whimpered at the feeling, wanting more but knowing that he wasn't going to give it to her easily. She remembered that too-that he enjoyed watching her beg for his touch. And she loved begging for it. 

"Please," she whispered in his ear, kissing a trail back to his lips. She stared at him through her eyelashes, hoping that the look on her face was sexy rather than simply starving. He held her gaze as he pulled her panties to the side and slid a finger up her slit-slowly-watching her reaction. The tip of his finger found her clit and rubbed in slow, dizzying circles that made her toes curl. 

And then, Malfoy was kissing his way down her neck to her chest and lower, practically kneeling before her on the floor. His head disappeared beneath her skirt and the feeling of his tongue following the same trail as his fingers had her gripping the edges of the counter for support. He used his left hand to keep her panties out of the way while his tongue worked her clit, licking and sucking in a delicious pattern that had her eyes rolling into the back of her head. And then a finger slipped in, moving in and out fast enough to bring her to the edge but not so fast that she spilled over it completely. 

"Dr-Draco," she nearly choked on his name, barely able to breathe. At the sound he moaned against her, the speed of his finger picking up until her knees were clamping down on either side of his head. 

He quickly pulled himself back up to face her, his hair wild and eyes simmering. 

"Say it again," his words came out like a growl. "Say my name again."

Her heart slammed against her chest. He was no longer the shy schoolboy who had knocked on her door. Draco Malfoy was once again full of confidence and sexual dominance, and Hermione was giving herself over to him like it was the easiest thing she had ever done. 

"Draco," she leaned forward, letting her lips hover over his. She could smell herself on his lips and it sent sparks flying down her spine. "Draco, I need you inside of me."

"Fuck," he moaned against her lips, pressing his to hers as he lifted her from the counter. "Not like this. Where's the bed?"

Hermione let out a soft giggle, wrapping her legs around him. His back was as muscular as his arms, and she let herself explore every inch of it as he began to move. 

"Down the hall, to the left," she said into his hair. One moment they were in the kitchen, and the next she was being tossed onto the bed with a force that made her bounce a couple of times. Draco quickly undid his belt and slid his pants off. She moved to take her skirt off and he stopped her, grabbing at her wrists and positioning them above her head. 

"Allow me," he whispered, and then kissed her. He held her hands while he did so and gave her wrists a small squeeze, to remind her to keep them there once he let go. She followed his unsaid directions, watching as he moved to unzip the skirt and pull it down her legs. Her panties came next, and the look on his face as he kneeled above her was enough to make her let out a whimper. 

The sound brought him back to the moment, and he grabbed her legs to bend them up slightly at the knee. And then, he was inside of her, and the two of them were moaning each other's names as he filled her to the brim. She'd forgotten how full he made her feel-like no man had been able to do before. His first few thrusts were slow and deliberate, feeling her out and letting her get accustomed to the feeling. And then she was scratching down his back as he picked up his pace, his kiss absorbing her moans. She threw her head back against the pillow as she came, her toes curling and fingers digging into his forearms. 

"Fuck, Hermione," he moaned against her neck. And then, he was flipping her over and pulling her hips up so that he could enter her from behind. She braced herself against the headboard of the bed, preparing for the force of the first thrust. He hit that spot perfectly on his first try, fireworks exploding behind her closed eyes. He started off upright, but then as he got closer to his own climax his body was on top of hers and he was kissing her neck as if it was the last time he'd ever have the chance. 

He nearly didn't stop himself in time, barely pulling out of her before he was finishing all over her lower back. They were both covered in sweat and each other and it was delicious-but sticky. He waved his hand over her back and the remnants of what had happened vanished. Malfoy collapsed beside her, unprepared for how quickly she would spin into his side and rest her chin on his chest. Instinctively, he wrapped an arm around her. 

"Hi," she whispered into his neck as their breathing began to slow. She giggled softly, her left hand drawing shapes on his chest. 

"Hi," he kissed the crown of her head, fighting back the urge to cry. He didn't want this moment to end. What would happen when she came down from her post-sex high and remembered that he was Draco Malfoy, a wizard she'd barely let walk free. She sat up suddenly, her face serious as her eyes pierced through his own. 

"Would you like some tea? Or a shower?" she asked him. "Or, um, you'd rather leave I suppose you don't need either."

She chewed on her bottom lip, her jaw tense. He could sense what she was feeling, and recognized it as the same feeling he was having. 

"I'll take both, please," he leaned up on his elbows to plant a kiss on her temple. She turned to face him then, and he offered her a sleepy smile. "And I'll take you, any day of the week. If you'll have me."

Hermione smiled and smacked him playfully on the chest. The air in the room felt light despite how hot it had gotten. While Hermione fetched the tea he opened the window, letting the cool breeze enter the room. She returned wearing his shirt-unbuttoned-and Draco had the thought that he could get used to this. Hermione handed him his cup and thought the same thing. 

"It won't be another five years until we get to do that again, will it?" Hermione asked. Draco laughed. He hoped not. 

**Author's Note:**

> The beginning few paragraphs for this story have been existing in my Tumblr drafts for eons and I figured it was finally time to show them the light of day. Please leave comments and kudos, and check out my Tumblr if you're feeling up to it - draqo-pctter


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